


Rains of Elfhelm

by Nature_Nymph



Category: Berserk
Genre: F/M, Lime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nature_Nymph/pseuds/Nature_Nymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Griffith is the Sun and Guts is the Storm, but who is the Rain in between? Features a squeeze of lime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rains of Elfhelm

Sensibility told him that he should have done otherwise. He was really in no condition to do this sort of activity. Iron in water was not a good thing, so he’d have only one arm - and swimming didn’t go well with just one arm. It wasn’t comfortable for neither swimming activities nor others.

Not just that, but he didn’t think himself much the looker nowadays, not with the ugly patchwork of scars criss-crossing his body like a macabre quilt. Sure, the time spent on the enchanted isle had healed so many of Guts’ wounds - even better than the magic of the Spirit Mansion did - but others still remained.

And with one blind eye and a scalp of whitening hair… Guts wasn’t the man he was years ago.

But damn it all. He’d find a way.

He’d find a way to make it work - for her.

He and Casca had been through too much, three years prior to Elfhelm and nearly two years after arriving, for him to cave into his insecurities now. It was a luxury that the Beast was absent for this long, dissuaded from appearing with Guts’ presence on Elfhelm. Alas, the Beast needn’t be present to cause turmoil. There was crying, silence, scorn, and near-defeat for those two years since Casca’s reawakening, and the Beast was merely a scapegoat at best. Guts knew that he deserved the wrath that Casca gave him on occasion; she deserved to take its reigns for a time.

But the storm in her gradually dissipated. No, it would never fully dissipate, much like how the rain never quite let up on these lush green isles. Casca was  so much like the rain itself. It could be cold and violent, stormy, dark, and unrelenting, but on gentler days, it had a beauty all of its own. The Berserker armor tried to rob him of his senses, but Guts could still sense how color was so much more vibrant in the rain, how refreshing the smell of it was, how life still sprung out and renewed itself.

Casca was so much like the rain: she found a way to flourish after the drought. She was not the same Casca and never would be the same, but she was born anew.

And like the rain, she gave him a second chance.

And she wanted to begin the same way they did all those years ago.

Casca had her lingering insecurities too. The darkness didn’t want her to move past the horrors that she suffered. She shook, shook that word from her psyche. She suffered, yes, but she survived. Casca was a survivor, and she struggled too. Why wouldn’t she be if she was equal to Guts, the so-called “Struggler”?

Just as their first time together, Guts still seemed to struggle with other matters at hand. 

She had already whisked her gown off her body, tossing it to the side of the ancient elvish bath that the two stumbled upon. The isle seemed to be littered with them, aged and over grown, but still filled to the brim with crystal clear water, vining flowers and plate-sized leaves providing privacy and coverage. 

In a subconscious movement, Casca’s hands went to cover her breasts, but instead teased her collarbone as she gave a slight turn toward Guts’, her nipples peaking into view. She could practically hear his heart thump with her teasing her him. Her lips curved as she decided to take her play a step further.

The bath was a good five feet deep, but the depth only gradually descended, as there were steps that lowered the bodied into the cool water, one step at a time. Casca decided it would be more fun to dive right in instead. She made sure that Guts’ good eye caught the sight of her swaying hips and the cheeks of her backside as she dove. 

As she swam below, she wondered how long it would take Guts to reach the edge of the pool.

Not very long, she found as she emerged from beneath. Guts had taken the liberty of removing his shirt already, afterwards the iron arm that he rarely went without wearing in front of her. He hesitated still, exposing himself so much, but when he saw Casca, pushing her wet, slightly curled bangs back, her nipples breaking the surface of the water, droplets of water beading on her lips, her body beckoning him like a nymph…

The ties to his pants became a lot looser.

Guts was too preoccupied to have seen the mischief on Casca’s face, to have seen her swim to the edge and grab at his feet, making him lose balance and plummet into the water below, a huge splash back of water erupting. Too late did she notice how inconsiderate it was for her to that, given the absence of his arm and his faulty balance, and the fact that he was not the swimmer that he use to be. She began to dive down to help him, but a roaring splash came as Guts emerged, gasping for air. 

He coughed and choked, and Casca was almost fearful that he was doing so in anger. He did furrow his brow, but a smirk accompanied it. She thought she was so cute and clever didn’t she, acting so innocent and pouty. Even if she wasn’t acting, Guts was still taken at the sight. She looked the same as she did when he told her that he was going to have her a thousand times. 

From his recollection, they had nine-hundred and eighty-nine times to go. 

Casca caught herself blushing. Guts was so tall, that he was still able to stand in the pool without too much fear of losing his balance. The water gleamed on his bare skin, skin engulfed in a flame work of scars. His muscled body was so much bigger than what she remembered, no doubt from wielding a much bigger slab of iron than what she remembered from their past. His spiky hair drooped down per usual when it came in contact with water, making it tousled and messy.

The water was becoming much warmer to Casca now. She swam closer to him, wanting to press her body against his, like how she use to. Guts welcomed her embrace, and using the edge as extra support, wrapped his arms around her while she wrapped her legs around him, allowing her weightlessness in the water to help lift her to his level almost.

She could feel that the water was warm enough for Guts, too.

“You know, things will be different now,” she told him.

“Yeah,” he replied, his phantom arm moving as though to caress her with that missing limb. “I know.”

“We’re not the same anymore,” she said quietly, as though she was telling herself this for the first time. Casca told herself this time and time again in her head, but never out loud. She choked. “ _I’m_  not the same any - “

Guts didn’t allow her to speak another word: he crushed his lips onto her, something that she did not shy away from. 

“I don’t need you to be the same as before,” Guts told her when they parted. He hoped those words didn’t come out wrong. “ _You_  don’t need to be like how you use to be. Just… feel alive.”

“You’ve said that before, haven’t you?” Casca asked, a small smile gracing her face.

“Does it still mean anything now?” Casca soaked his words in, her  heart stalling for a moment until she decided kiss him, just as deeply as he did. As they began drifting toward the bath steps, he realized then that his words were not only meant for Casca.

He wanted to change. He didn’t want to be the man that he use to be. Maybe they could both make this change together.

Or rather, maybe Casca could help him along the way. She was so much better at this than he, it seem.

Once they reached the steps, in a comfortable enough position for the both of them, they felt tiny droplets of rain trickling past the canopy of trees.

“We shouldn’t be out here too long,” Guts inquired, leaning back on his elbows as Casca straddled him. She looked up, feeling the rain’s soft touch on her breast, and soon warmth from a peak of sunlight.

“Why not?” she said, leaning close to let her breath touch his lips. “It’s only rain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: This fic was pretty much motivated by the sex scene in The Witcher 2.


End file.
